Learning from the Mistakes
by PoeticJustice84
Summary: In the sequel to Correcting the Mistakes,Neal,Peter,and El learn from their mistakes. Will contain spankning of an adult in some chapters. If that isn't your thing please skip this one. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**So here is a little something to tide you all over. This is the second installment in my Mistakes series. **

Overall, Neal was happy with both the bedroom and the bathroom. They held a mixture of classic elegance and modern functionality. His tastes in selections for both rooms surprised him. He had never realized he was so eclectic. He still couldn't believe Peter had given him the o.k. to do whatever he wanted with the spaces. He also couldn't fathom Peter giving up his man cave, but it had happened. And now the basement den was a studio of sorts. It wasn't perfect, with so little light streaming in, but it was doable. Especially now that Peter had hired contractors to add several small windows. As if Neal didn't feel guilty enough with the decorations upstairs, now the Burkes were shelling out more money on him. Not to mention Peter no longer had his own space. It was if Neal had taken over the house. He hoped Peter didn't resent him for anything.

Peter glanced around the room, taking in the lighter paint color. El had been right, the room was brighter now. He could see Neal painting and sculpting for hours on end here. The thought made him smile. Neal was finally and completely home. Sure, he stayed with June from time to time, or even at the country house, but the boy had made this place his home. Time to find Neal and show him the finished product. The contractor was finally finished.

El shredded the chicken breasts and tossed it into a mix of low fat citrus infused mayonnaise, a dab of grainy mustard, a little horseradish sauce, sea salt, ground black pepper, minced garlic, finely onion, thinly shredded carrot, chopped broccoli, red pepper flakes, chopped parsley, halved grapes, and a bit of homemade sweet pickle relish. The chicken salad would be great in a whole-wheat wrap later for lunch. After stretching the cling wrap across the bowl, El deposited her dish in the refrigerator and headed up stairs to do the laundry.

Neal tossed the whites into one basket and the reds into another. Really, the biggest load was the coloreds. The whites could wait until he had a few more articles to make a full load. Grabbing that basket, he tossed the coloreds into the washing machine. The fabric softener he and Elizabeth insisted on was in hand also.

El watched her son effortlessly sort and start the laundry. Neal never had to be asked to do anything around the house; he usually did it before anyone else thought about it. El was grateful for the thoughtful gestures, though she wished sometimes, he would let that guard down and act his age. Most twenty year olds never thought about laundry or cleaning until they were naked with six-week-old empty take out boxes cluttering the house.

"Thank you. You know you don't have to do our laundry also."

"I live here, so I just thought why not help out some."

El placed her hand on he cheek and kissed his forehead. How she wished she had been in his life when things started to go bad. If she and Peter had been there, Neal would have had such a different life. He would probably be in college now, studying art, no doubt.

"I love you, sweetie."

Those words never failed to have an impact on him. Even though he heard them everyday now, they still stopped him in his tracks. Years without them had taught him to treasure those three simple words.

"I love you, too. You and Peter didn't have to totally redecorate to make me love you. I already did."

"We wanted you to have your own space; besides, the basement was Peter's idea. He does occasionally have one of those."

The giggles stopped Peter's upward motion. Neal had never giggled until he moved in. Now Neal and El seemed to do it at his expense. He didn't really mind. He knew they meant no harm. Besides, if it got Neal laughing, it was worth it.

"I think the contractor just finished, if you guys want to come down."

Neal stood in shock. The sun streaming through the room was amazing. The oddly shaped windows suited him just fine. They would go well with his newly discovered varied style. He honestly had no idea what to say. Peter and El had done more for him in a few months than most people had done for him in his life.

"I don't know what to say. You guys are turning you whole loves upside down for me. Thank you just doesn't seem like enough."

Peter wrapped his arms around his son and kissed the top of the kid's head. He realized that for Neal, the concepts of gifts and giving only went one way. That had to change. Neal would have to get used to having people that doted upon him. He certainly deserved it.

"Why don't you look around, get a feel for the room?"

Neal was grateful for mortgage fraud cases now that he had an art studio to put his time into. Peter didn't seem to mind if his thoughts drifted now. He had already started a sculpture and a small painting. Peter and Elizabeth seemed happy. Satchmo was content to watch him work. Life was good for Neal Caffrey. He just hoped he didn't somehow mess that up.

Walking Satch had somehow become his job. He didn't mind, it gave him time to put his thoughts together. It also gave him time to find inspiration in the little things in life. Taking the dog to the park to play fetch was surprisingly relaxing. The walk home helped him clear his head. It always did. Until Satchmo darted into the bushes, pulling him along.

The small, crying animal lay there staring at him, with big sad eyes. There was no collar and no identification of any kind. The poor little thing looked half-starved. Making a decision, Neal gently scooped the little puppy into his arms and wrapped it in his coat. If he could find a home for the little guy fairly quickly, El and Peter never had to know. First, though, the little thing needed food and water. And a bath.

**The next chapter will be posted soon.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, guys. Thanks for the great response to the first chapter. In addition, yes I want suggestions and opinions about this. If you have an idea tell me. WARNING: This chapter has references to spanking.**

This was the third stain in two days. El was fed up. Neal usually wasn't so clumsy. He hardly ever spilled anything, let alone on the carpet. Something was up, she was sure of it. She just had to prove it.

Peter Burke knew Neal Caffrey like the back of his hand. He was careful, methodical, and above all, neat and tidy. It just was not at all like him to drop coffee on the carpet. He was hiding something. Neal could lie with the best of them, just not to the people that loved him.

"I really am sorry I spilled the coffee. If you like I could replace the carpet."

El smiled sadly, as she thought about what her son could be hiding from them. Why didn't he trust them enough to tell them the truth?

"It'll steam right out, sweetie. But you already knew that since you already have the steamer out. I think I'll take Satchmo for a walk."

"No! I mean, I'll do it, mom! You look tired. You should rest."

Neal called her mom. Again. Something was certainly wrong. Peter thought so too it seemed because he grabbed the leash and started calling the dog.

Satchmo bounced in from the kitchen followed by a small red puppy yapping at his tail.

Neal thought his heart might stop when the puppy entered the room. Elizabeth looked shocked at first then she picked up the little bundle of energy and cuddled him to her chest. Peter just looked ready to commit murder. Neal was sure his ass was grass now.

"Neal, would you care to explain why there is a…a…what the hell is it, in my house?"

"Peter just hear me out before you kill me. I found him a few days ago when I was walking Satch. He was starving, cold, and wet. I just couldn't leave him. I put up flyers and called the shelters to see if anyone had been looking for him. So far, no one has called. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I just thought you might make me take him to the shelter."

"Upstairs! Now!"

Neal didn't waste time standing around; he hurried up the stairs to his room to await his punishment.

El placed the little thing in Peter's arms before speaking.

"Peter you can't possible be angry with him for this. He's too tender hearted to just leave the little guy out there."

"He could have at least asked!"

"He was afraid we would say no."

"I don't care, El. He lied to us! We have a rule, no secrets or lies. He broke that rule."

"Peter he's never had anyone in his life like us. He's still trying to figure this out. He's allowed to make mistakes. God knows we have. Now go talk to him. And yes we are keeping the puppy!"

"What the hell is it anyway?"

"It looks like a Dachshund kind of. I'll call the vet and make an appointment."

"El."

"We were going to let him get a dog anyway. I don't see the problem. This little guy just needs a family. Kind of like Neal."

With that, El grabbed the phone and started dialing.

Neal heard the footsteps on the stairs and tensed. He knew he had broken a rule, but he done it for a good reason. Peter wouldn't see that though. Neal just hoped the older man calmed a bit before he decided to lay into him. Peter's spankings were bad enough when he was calm, Neal did not want to experience one when the man was angry.

Peter knocked before he entered the room, but didn't wait for a reply. He found Neal sitting at the desk, pulling up the animal shelter page on his computer. The kid looked utterly defeated. And Peter, sitting on the bed, felt like the Grinch who stole Christmas.

"Come here. We need to talk."

Neal nodded and walked over to the man he considered a father. Feeling the older man's arms around him almost made him relax. Almost.

"Why do we have rules, Neal?"

"To keep me safe and out of trouble."

"What happens when you break those rules?"

"I get punished."

"What happened the last time you broke a rule, kiddo?"

"I got grounded for a week. You said if I continued to do so you would have very personal a meeting with my butt and El's hairbrush."

"So you do remember?"

"Yes."

Peter almost smiled at the squeak. Damnit all, he didn't want to spank the kid for this, but he had to do something.

"Good. So, here's how this is going to work. Because you lied to us about this and kept this a secret, you are going to do extra chores for the next two weeks. And the computer will be taken away also. You can use the one in the living room when one of us is in there with you. Also, since we now have two dogs, you have to help with them as well. Understood?"

"Yes sir. Wait, you just said we have two dogs now! You're letting me keep him?"

At Peter's nod, Neal tackled him onto the bed.

"Thank you. I swear, I'll take care of him! You and El won't have to do a thing."

Peter wrapped his arms around his son and kissed his head. He knew he had don't the right thing now even as he heard El yelling from the kitchen about the vet appointment later that day and going shopping for puppy stuff.

"No more lying, Neal. No more secrets. If there is a next time, I will turn you over my knee and wear you behind out with that hairbrush. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir! No more lying and no more secrets."

"Good. Come on, we have to get food and water dishes, a small leash, a collar and ID tags, training pads, puppy food, chew toys, and puppy treats. Then it's off the vet's office. By the way, what's his name?"

"I haven't named him yet. I was not sure if you people would let me keep him. And I kept thinking maybe someone would see the flyers and call to claim him."

"Then I guess we need to name the little runt."

"I've never named an animal before."

"We'll think of something, buddy."


	3. Chapter 3

**Learning From the Mistakes chap. 3**

Peter glanced at his son as he stopped at the traffic light. Neal looked happy with a dozing puppy in his lap. After an exam and shots, the vet had been elated to pronounce the little guy healthy and fit. The blood tests would be back by the end of the week and then they would finally have an idea as to exactly what breed the little red devil was. The vet had taken a guess, saying the puppy looked like a chi weenie, a mix between a Chihuahua and a Dachshund. Neal didn't seem to care as long the puppy was happy and playful.

"Thanks for letting me keep him."

"You've said that fifty times at least."

"I know, I just want you and El to know that I appreciate your letting me keep him. I was already attached; I really didn't want to have to give him up."

Peter reached over and scratched a small red ear as the puppy yawned and yapped at Neal. Laughing, Neal in turn scooped him up and snuggled him close. The boy was a natural with animals, it was a shame his bastard of a father had never allowed them.

El watched the car park and darted out the door. Peter had called from the vet's office, but carrying a puppy and all the puppy stuff would be a trip.

"So do we have a name yet?"

"Still not sure. Peter thinks I should name him after an artist. Any suggestions?"

"I think you should see what kind of personality he has. He seems quite playful."

With that, Neal and Elizabeth left Peter to bring the packages inside.

"Thanks for all the help! I can carry all this alone, it's no trouble."

The grumbles went unnoticed as Peter placed the bags on the counter and started sorting things. Finally, El bounced down the stairs and started putting things away.

"Neal said he'd be down in a few. He had to change into something more comfortable."

The something more comfortable turned out to be sweats and a t-shirt. Peter could only smile as his thoughts slipped to how young Neal looked now. Without the facial hair and in sweats, padding around on bare feet, the boy looked almost like a child. Neal Caffrey was, in so many ways still just a child. Barely out of his teens and having been deprived of love and affection most of his life made the innocence in the boy's bright eyes all the more noticeable. Without thinking, Peter reached over and ruffled the dark hair that had become unruly now that Neal had no one to impress.

Neal leaned into the touch just as he did every time his parents shared their affections. These people would never know just how much they had changed his life. And he wasn't sure he would either. El and Peter had taken and ex con and welcomed him into the family with no questions asked.

"Neal, sweetie, are you alright?"

"I'm great, El. I think I'm going let the dogs out for awhile, before the temperature starts to drop."

Peter watched Neal rolling on the ground with Satch and the puppy. No one at work would ever believe this. Neal Caffrey, elusive conman and extraordinaire of all things stylish was rolling in the grass with animals. The sight made Peter's heart hurt. Had Neal ever done this before he met them or June? In that moment, Peter vowed to make up for all the bad thing in his son's life. He would do everything he could to give Neal the happy carefree life he deserved. And he would start with a puppy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. They are always appreciated. Oh, before I forget. There seems to be some confusion as to the breed of Neal's puppy. One reviewer says it's called a Dahuahua, yet my vet calls mine a chi weenie. As did the shelter where I found him. I highly doubt he cares what the breed name is as long he has a home with my little mini schnauzer mix and my yorkie poo. Rescue dogs are good like that. Sorry if there was any confusion. Now ONWARD!**

Peter listened his as his son tried to talk his way out of trouble. He itched to burst in there and come to the rescue, but he knew he had to wait for Neal to use his signal. The whole exchange sounded off to Peter, but he trusted his son. It was just the rest of the world he had a problem with. Oh Hell, he was going in there. He wasn't taking a chance that Neal might get hurt.

"I think you're right, Mr. Wesley, this is lovely weather we're having."

Jones startled as Peter jumped up and flew to the door.

"Peter?"

"Lovely weather? That's Neal's signal. Let's go. Something must be wrong."

Peter knew he should have listened to his gut. Now his son was stuck in that warehouse with a murderer. Damnit!

"Mr. Wesley I'm sure this will all work out especially with such lovely weather on your side."

Neal was beginning to wonder if something was wrong with the wire when he finally heard it.

"FBI! Drop the weapon!"

Mr. Wesley looked up to see FBI jackets surrounding him. Not wanting to give up without a fight though, the man pushed the gun further into his captive's rib cage.

The groan of pain sent Peter Burke from hyper agent mode to pissed off dad mode in a second flat. Locking eyes with Neal, Peter saw the maneuver before it ever happened. Trying to stall the criminal clearly wasn't working for Neal. He wanted out. Now!

"No Neal!"

The panic was setting in now. The feel of the gun against his body making him shiver. The tightening of the arm around his neck causing labored breathing. He had to get away. He couldn't wait for the FBI team to do it for him. With that thought, Neal raised his elbow and punched it into the felons gut, all the while trying desperately to get away. He never heard the two shots afterward. The searing pain in his leg stopped him in his tracks though.

Watching as Wesley raised his gun to Neal prompted Peter to do the same. This piece of trash was not going to hurt his child. The shots fired simultaneously, Peter's striking Wesley in the gut. The cry of pain alerted Peter that Neal had not escaped unharmed.

"Neal!"

The gash in Neal's leg wasn't that long, but it was deep. The bullet must have grazed the kid as he dove for cover.

"Neal, I need you to talk to me. Are you alright?"

"It's just my leg. God I never thought a graze would hurt this much. Did we get him?"

"The ambulance is on the way just sit tight for me. Yeah we got him kid."

Peter proceeded to apply pressure to the wound with his jacket, noticing that the wound seemed much worse than he originally thought. What was that in the wound? Was that part of the bullet? In his son's leg?

"Neal I think part of the bullet is still in your leg. I need you to be a still as possible for me, buddy."

Neal lay his head on the soft jacket that Jones had placed under his head while his dad checked the wound. The gentle prodding made him sleepy or maybe that was the blood loss.

"Dad? I'm tired."

"Don't close your eyes Neal. Not yet."

"Peter the bus is here!"

Jones voice sounded so far away.

"Hear that? They're going to give you the loopy drugs. You won't feel a thing."

Neal's hand snaked out to grab Peter's just as the medics were ready to roll him to the ambulance.

"Please don't leave."

Peter ran his hand through Neal's messy hair and smiled down at his son.

"I'm not going anywhere, kiddo."

El watched as her husband picked up a sleeping Neal and carried him into the house. She grabbed the crutches and Neal's bag before following him. Satchmo and Angelo sat on the floor in front of the couch as Peter placed his sleeping bundle there. The two pets allowed him to cover the kid with a blanket before they lay on the floor beside Neal.

Neal woke to fur in his face. What the hell? Glancing down he saw Satch's head on his chest and Angelo on his shoulder. So he was home then. Funny he didn't remember coming home.

"You're awake?"

Of course, El would be there, she always was.

"I think I am."

The giggle made him smile. He was still a little loopy. Trying to sit up proved to be difficult for two reasons. One: he was stoned and weak, two: he had overprotective dogs laying on him. When he finally did manage it with some help though he realized how thirsty he was.

Peter carried the tray into the living room and set it on the coffee table. The juice and water seemed like a good choice, as did the turkey sandwich, assuming the kid wanted to eat anything.

"How did I get here? I remember the hospital, but not coming home."

"I carried you. You were pretty out of it when the hospital finally released you. You even sang half the way home. I'm fairly sure if you could use your leg you would have been dancing as well."

Neal didn't want that to be funny but it was. Still though he needed to know the extent of his injury.

"What's the damage?"

"Nothing major, just a hole in you leg. The bullet hit something before it hit you. Whatever it hit split it into several pieces. One of those pieces lodged in your leg. It's been removed, but the muscle will need time to heal. The doctor thinks after a few weeks of physical therapy you should be able to ditch the crutches."

"So I'm useless until then? Great!"

"I never said that. You'll just have to take it easy for a while. Good thing we have a few days off I guess."

"I guess."

"Neal look at me."

Neal raised his eyes to meet Peter's. The reproach and anger he was expecting was not there. Instead, he saw concern and pride maybe.

"Without you, we would have never been able to pin anything more than a traffic ticket on Wesley. You did good today. You should be proud of yourself. I am."

"O.K. I can do that."

"Here finish the juice."

"Can I have a glass of wine after?"

"No you can not. You would stoned if you mixed the wine and pain meds."

"Coffee then?"

Peter smiled as he pulled his son against his chest.

"I think we can do that."


	5. Chapter 5

**Warning: Spanking in this chapter and the next. **

Elizabeth Burke loved her son. She did! Nevertheless, she had to get out of the house before she did something that might send her to prison. Sure, she understood that for a kid like Neal being stuck in the house on crutches was like a death sentence, but good God did he have to jump on the one nerve she had left? He knew he couldn't work, at least not for another week, yet everyday, a thousand times a day he tried to haggle her into it. When that didn't work, he painted, sculpted, or played with Satch and Angelo. Angelo. Poor little guy being named such. It was short for Michelangelo, and somehow he had become Angelo. But El digressed; she was ready to pull her hair out. Neal was bored and when Neal was bored, he found trouble.

Peter Burke finally decided to take a few personal days. His wife, bless her soul, was at her wits end with Neal. He could totally understand that. Neal was going crazy with nothing to do, and he was driving his mother up the wall and across the ceiling because of that. Lately the kid had begun to get angry with the situation. His smart mouth certainly wasn't helping. A few well-placed swats from both parents usually put a halt to that though. Still, Peter knew for an intelligent kid like his son, doing nothing had to be killing him. That was the reason he started bring home cases. It was also the reason he started using his lunch hour to get his son out of the house. Museums, art exhibits, sometimes just lunch and coffee, anything to keep the genius mind of Neal's from thinking too much or getting the twenty year old it was attached to into trouble.

Neal hated the situation he currently found himself thrown into. He wasn't an invalid for fuck's sake! He could walk fine with the crutches. Hell he could even get along without them sometimes when the Burkes weren't looking. He had to be careful about where he decided to leave them behind though. Peter had caught him once trying to walk without them and the result had been terrible. Peter had taken him over his knee. Ten hard swats on his boxer clad behind made Neal realized he would have to ditch the crutches when Peter wasn't home. Too bad Peter picked this week to take personal time.

El was enjoying her day out. A spa day really was what she needed. How did Neal know? Was he that perceptive? Her answer would always be yes. Neal might be well…Neal, but he knew how to work people. It was what he did after all. She would just listen to the card that came with the mail yesterday.

_Mom, I'm sorry I've been so trying lately. I realize now that you and Dad are just as much affected by this as I am. So to say I'm sorry I got you a little something. Hope you enjoy! Love You, Neal._

A little something turned out to be a day of pampering for four at the new high-end spa El had been telling Peter about for a month. So here she sat with her closest friends letting herself be pampered. She would have to find a way to thank him later, but for now, she was going to relax and enjoy her day.

Peter had just about all of his son's surly attitude as he could take. He was tired of the rude, sarcastic comments, and the present resentment. He felt terrible that the kid was so miserable, but he and El were doing everything they could to make his leave easier. Neal just didn't see that.

"One more smart ass remark and you just might find yourself staring at the floor for a while. I have no problem spanking your backside."

Neal let the rude comment die on his lips. He had no doubts about his dad spanking him. Finally he huffed and started to climb the stairs. A nap was not his idea of fun, but what else could he do. Peter had told him to take a break from the cases for a while. He could finish his painting, but getting down the stairs hurt more than getting up them. Too bad he had flushed all the pain pills the doctor had prescribed. He really could use one right abut now.

Neal heard a thumping sound. No, two thumbing sounds. What the hell was that? God, his thigh hurt! Why had he walked around the room like an idiot for a half hour without the crutches? The thumping was back now. He didn't want to sit up but he really had to find out what that noise was.

Peter watched his son sit up slowly. He and the kid were going to have nice little chat about following doctor's orders and listening when your parents say no.

The two dogs were wagging their tails on the floor. That caused the thumps. The sigh could only be caused by Peter. Wait! What the hell was Peter doing in his room?

"Nice nap, son?"

"Yes, it was actually quite refreshing."

"I'm glad to hear that. You are going need all you strength for this little conversation you and I need to have."

Neal knew he was toast. Stick a fork in him, he was done. His ass was grass.

"What is this about?"

"Those crutches you never use and those pills you flushed. Please tell me son, how much longer are you supposed to use the crutches?"

"At least another week."

"And why were you given the pain pills again?"

"Because my body heals slower when it's fighting pain. Give me some credit, Dad. I took the antibiotic."

There that word was again. Dad. Neal had let it slip several times in the past few weeks. Peter liked hearing it. He didn't like having to correct his son though. He was sure he now knew what his own father felt like every time he got into trouble.

"Wait, how do you know I flushed the pills?"

"I didn't, son until just now."

Sitting was going to be painful for a while. Maybe he could start carrying a pillow with him.

"So am I grounded?"

"Since you're already grounded in a sense, I think I'll let my hand do the talking this time."

Neal didn't protest. He was caught, no use in trying to talk Peter out of it now.

"We will also be discussing your poor attitude. I think that needs to be addressed don't you?"

"Yes."

Peter sat on the bed and pulled his son over his lap.

"Neal, I've decided to spank you twice. I'll spank you now for your attitude and tonight for the other stuff. Understood?"

Neal nodded and lowered his head into the pillow as his dad pulled down his sleep pants and underwear. This was going to be simply awful!

Peter wasted no time as he started the punishment.

**SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! **

The tears and quiet sobs tore Peter's heart out. He knew how much this hurt. He had been in the very same position too many times to count. Still he knew he had to finish. Dropping his knew caused Neal sob harder into the pillow.

"Just a few more, son."

**SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT!**

Neal cried harder as the spanking ended. The last swats were the worst. On his under curve, he would feel them whenever he sat. This spanking hurt! Peter meant to make a point. Even as he felt himself being pulled into his dad's arms, Neal vowed no more attitude.

"I'm glad to hear that, buddy. I know you feel trapped; you just have to talk to us o.k.? We'll figure something out. I promise."

Neal buried his head into Peter's side and cried. Yes, his rear hurt, but he felt terrible for the way he treated Peter and El. They loved without question and here he was acting like a spoiled child.

"Dad, I'm sorry."

"I know, bud. I think Mom might need to hear that later though."

Neal had to agree. It was part of the reason he had gotten the spa day for her.

"Want to come down and watch some T.V.?"

"Can we let the dogs out back? It's a wonderful day. We could stay out with them."

"I think we can do that. Oh, while you were sleeping I went out and got you prescription filled again. You will be taking them. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes."

"Good. Come on, let's let these two run."


	6. Chapter 6

**WARNING: SPANKING IN THIS CHAPTER! **

Peter glanced at the stairs before making his way up them. His son was up those stairs, in his room. Waiting for him. Just like he had been earlier in the day. He heard the shower cut off just moments ago, Neal was getting ready for bed. This was the perfect time to go through with his promise to the boy earlier.

"Dad, are you just going to stand there?"

"I was thinking about it."

"Debating instruments of torture?"

"Actually, yes. Paddle or hairbrush? What do you think?"

Neal's eyes widened at the thought of either being used on his still tender behind. He had hoped that Peter would use just his hand since the brute knew he was already sore. Peter's hard hand had gotten the message across fine earlier in the day. Neal would not be copping an attitude with his parents anymore. For a while at least.

"I think you should forget all about this. We both know you don't really want to do it."

"I don't, but right now, I realize why I have to. Where are the crutches, Neal?"

Neal froze. He had forgotten all about them. He had gotten so accustomed to moving about without them that he never even thought to get them from the side of the bedroom door. Damnit!

"Behind the bedroom door."

Peter nodded as he helped his son into his bedroom. This was why he had to spank his son again. Neal had to learn that taking care of himself was a requirement now. After placing Neal on the bed, Peter moved toward the door.

"Do not move from that spot!"

The salute Neal gave in return only earned him five hard swats to the seat of his silk pajama pants. The sting they left convinced him not to push his dad anymore. His eyes were already filling with tears anyway. Those swats reigning down on an already sore bottom told him to cool the attitude.

**SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT!**

Peter opened the nightstand drawer and picked up his instrument. This spanking was going to be painful for both parties involved.

Neal spotted the dreaded hairbrush as Peter entered his room again. It looked menacing. God he hoped it didn't bruise!

Peter noticed the tear tracks on his son's face as he placed the brush on the bed and sat down beside it. The swats must have reawakened the soreness. He almost felt bad for the boy. Almost. Neal deserved every swat he got today.

"Neal, son, tell me why this spanking is necessary."

"I-I don't follow the doctors orders."

"And?"

"There's an and?"

"The big point Neal is that when you don't follow the doctor's orders, you end hurting yourself more. Your mother and I hate that. We want you happy and healthy. And I know you want to get back to work faster but sometimes these things take time, kid. The more you fight us and the doctor the longer it will take for you to get back on your feet."

Neal understood Peter and El's concern; he just wasn't used to having that kind of concern directed at him.

Neal nodded, but didn't move and inch. While he understood the reason for the punishment, he also dreaded the punishment itself.

"Come here, bud. Let's finish this."

Neal didn't move. Standing, with crutches this time, suddenly seemed like a good idea.

"Son, if I have to get you this spanking will be so much worse."

Neal decided his backside could only take so much so he hobbled over to his dad's knees and dropped his pants.

Peter carefully placed his unruly son over his knees and dropped the boxer briefs to reveal his son's still pink behind. Some spots were deeper pink than others as a result of the swats moments ago. Neal would be feeling this for several hours at least.

Picking up the brush, Peter placed it on his son's rear and watched the reaction. Neal started and gasped.

"Are you that sore?"

"No. That just caught me off guard."

Nodding Peter picked up the brush once again and raised his arm.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

"OOW! OOW! It hurts! Please Dad no more! Please!"

"Just a few more son."

"No! No! It really h-hurts!"

The sobs brought tears to Peter's eyes. Lowering his knee cause Neal to wail again and throw his hands back to protect his burning behind. Peter pinned them to the small of the boys back and raised his arm again ignoring his own wet face.

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

"Ah! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"I know you son."

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

"Please s-s-stop! P-please Dad!

"Just four more baby boy."

**SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!**

"Ahh! I'm so s-sorry! No m-more! It h-huuurts!

Peter tossed the brush onto the bed and rubbed his son's quaking back. The sobs Neal was trying to muffle into the pillow caused his own tears to flow faster. He didn't even bother with the underwear, choosing to pull them completely off in favor of just the silk pajamas. The fabric of the p.j.'s would be more comfortable than the underwear.

Neal hissed as his dad pulled his sleep pants back up over his deep cherry red rump. The pain the gesture caused set off more tears. Curling into his dad on the bed, Neal sobbed his heart out. Peter had never been so harsh with him. But he had never really caused so much trouble either.

"Daddy I'm sorry."

Peter kissed the tousled head and smiled.

"I know buddy."

Hearing the tears in his dad's voice set Neal off again. Peter was hurting because of him. Because he had acted like a spoiled brat. He hated himself for that.

"D-dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you stay with me?"

"Always baby. I will never leave you. I love you too much to even consider it."

Peter watched as Neal cried himself to sleep curled into his side, on his stomach. The spanking had been a bad but necessary punishment. Neal endangering himself would not be tolerated. Now maybe the stubborn kid understood that.

El watched from the door as Peter pulled the covers up over their son and kissed his head again.

"How is he?"

Peter sighed sadly before answering.

"He's going to be sore for a while, but he'll be fine."

"Care if I join you?"

"Not at all."

El wrapped her son in her arms and kissed him. Hearing the spanking had driven her to tears. She needed to hold her son now.

Not to be out done, Satch jumped onto the bed followed by Angelo climbing the doggy steps.

They would be fine. Neal would be fine. They would make sure he was.


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm back! Sorry for the long delay. Things here in Alabama have been a little crazy for a while. No major damage or loss so I guess things turned out alright. Now on with the story. **

Peter heard the crutches just he left the bathroom. Maybe the spankings had the desired effect after all. He also heard a rustling noise and then a load thud.

"Neal!"

"I'm alright. These stupid crutches get in the way. I can't even do my own laundry Peter! I can't walk the dogs, I can't clean the house, and I can't keep the back yard up. I'm useless Peter!"

"You do realize that you're not even supposed to be doing any of those things, right?"

"I know you and El get tired of having to do it for me. I feel terrible when I see either of doing my stuff. What if you get tired of me?"

Peter silently cursed himself for not seeing this sooner. With Neal's insecurities, something like this was inevitable.

"First of all, we will _never_ get tired of you! B. This is what families do for each other, kid. You might as well get used to it. And 3. You're not useless. You help El out with the housework, you cook, and you even closed four cases without ever going to the office. That's not useless, son. Besides, you're supposed to be worried about healing, nothing else."

Neal dropped his head onto his dad's shoulder and sighed. Maybe Peter was right. Get healthy, and then worry about repaying the Burkes for all they had done for him while he was recuperating.

"Neal, did you ever think about going to college?"

"Kind of hard to do without finishing high school."

"You could get your GED, and then apply."

"That's not a good idea, Peter."

"Why not? You're very intelligent; it would be a shame to waste that."

"That's just it; I'm not really that smart."

"Your father tell you that?"

"Yes. I wanted to take art classes and he said that I must be too stupid to take real classes."

Peter kissed his son's head and plotted a murder. Neal was far from stupid, any idiot could see that.

"Would you like to take some college courses?"

"I don't know. What if I can't do it?

"Tell you what, first we'll schedule a day for you to take the GED tests, and then we'll worry about college. But I want you to do something for me first."

"O.K."

"I want you to take an IQ test. I want to prove to you just how intelligent you are. Anyone who can survive the way you did can't be all that dumb."

"What if I embarrass you? I'll score low and then you'll be upset."

"I really doubt that. Just trust me on this?"

"Alright. I can do that."

"Good. Now come on, I'm going to help you do your laundry. Then we're going to take the dogs to the park."

Peter finally saw a tiny smile as he picked up the laundry basket.

El rushed to the computer and immediately started looking for colleges for Neal. She had no doubts that he would excel in anything he choose to do. Once Neal had the basics of something, he could work it out completely. He cold even do some online courses if he wanted to.

That night Peter informed Neal of his testing dates. The IQ test would be given at the end of the week while the GED testing would begin at the first of the month, giving them plenty of time to study. It also gave them time to build up Neal's confidence in himself. Peter had never realized just what a sore subject Neal's intellect was. Had he known Neal thought so low of himself he would have found a counselor sooner. Maybe now was the time to broach that subject as well.

**Sorry it's so short, just wanted to get something posted. Updates may be few and far between for a while until things in bama settle back down so just bare with me for a while. In addition, I have started a new private investigative business so that is taking some time also. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8. Well, here it is. The ending to yet another story. Don't worry though; I am already working on another part of this series. Once again, thanks to all my readers and the well wishes. **

Neal stared at the envelope in his hands, both anticipating and dreading the contents. He wasn't lying when he told Peter that he wasn't that smart. Now this little piece of paper was going to prove him right, he just knew it. He really didn't want to see the disappointment in Peter's eyes when he saw the low score, maybe just trashing the stupid letter would be for the best. Nothing good could come from reading it anyway. With that thought, Neal Caffrey tossed the package into the kitchen trash and walked, yes-walked crutch free down to his newly converted art studio. Since the doctor had cleared him just days ago, Neal still caught himself being cautious of certain things. Mainly stairs and curbs. One wrong step would send jolts of white-hot pain searing through his leg, tossing him off balance still. This was to be expected, or so said the physical therapist. It would get better as the leg regained its strength and muscle tone. Neal thought he could live with that.

Peter reflected on the day as he slipped on his old sneakers to take out the trash. Neal's first day back had gone better than he thought it would. The welcome back lunch had definitely been a surprise for the kid. Having so many people there seemed to make it even better. Now maybe the stubborn kid would realize that not all agents we completely against him still working for the FBI. The kid was a great asset to them, most agents saw that now.

"What the hell?"

Peter lifted the envelope out of the trash bin and read the heading. The damn kid had just thrown out the test results without so much as opening them. Peter knew why and that just somehow this whole mess worse. The results were supposed to prove to Neal that yes he was as intelligent as everyone thought. Instead, the boy was too scared of said results to even open the damn letter. Well, Peter would just have to do it for him. Once his suspicions were confirmed, he would take the letter to Neal and put to rest this little debate once and for all.

"El, the results are in."

"Really? I didn't see them when I got the mail earlier."

"I think someone got to them first. I found them in the trash."

El's eyes told Peter all he needed to know. She too understood their son's reluctance to see the score. What she could not and would not ever comprehend was why people had children if they were just going to tear them down and insult them. Why bring a child into a world with no love or affection? That was the entire problem now. Neal's…sperm donor, because that horrid man certainly couldn't call himself a father, had been thoughtless and cruel towards his child and now as an adult, that child still carried the scars from such abuse.

The moment her husband's mouth fell open, Elizabeth Burke knew Neal Caffrey's life was going to change. Getting a look at the score made her head spin. She and Peter had always known Neal was freakishly intelligent, but the readings in front of them amazed even them.

"Peter do you realize what this means for him?"

"El, I've never seen a score like this before. I knew he was smart, but this is way out my league."

"I think we should go tell him."

"Yeah."

Neal heard the footfalls on the steps before he saw his parents. He had done nothing wrong that he could remember. Or had he?

"I swear whatever I did, I didn't do it! And I may or may not have proof."

El laughed as Peter glared at his son.

"What? Did I actually do something wrong?"

Peter shook his head no.

"I found this in the trash. Unopened."

"Yeah, about that. Um. I really didn't see a reason to open it. I don't much like bad news so I just decided to toss it out."

Peter watched as Neal went back to his sculpture. He didn't seem the least bit curious about the letter.

"Don't you even want to know the score?"

"Not really. I would only confirm what I've been telling you guys from the beginning. I'M NOT SMART!"

El removed the clay from his hands and handed him a towel.

"We opened it. Boy were we shocked to see that kind of result staring back at us. Just take a look. Please?"

Neal knew he couldn't say no to Elizabeth. Even so, he still didn't want to see the pathetic results.

"Fine but let the record reflect that I'm doing this under protest."

Peter handed the letter over.

"Noted, now read the damn letter."

Neal had to read the results three times before he finally let himself believe them. It had to be a mistake. They got his scores mixed up with someone else's.

"Sorry, bud, this is all you."

"Are you sure. Like really really sure?"

"Yes. Neal do you realize how rare this is? I know many people, some of them extremely intelligent, but this is beyond even that, kid."

"But this has to be a mistake."

"I highly doubt that."

"But I don't understand how. I've never been that bright."

The confusion on her son's face made Elizabeth fume with anger. No one should be able to make his or her child feel like this.

"Yes you have. You just never had anyone to tell you that."

Neal placed the letter on the table and sighed.

"Does this mean that you'll expect me to do well in all my classes now?"

Peter huffed a laugh as he pulled his son to him.

"You better believe it."

El grabbed him next.

"I know how to deal with slackers, honey. So don't even try it."

Neal had no doubts about it now. A GED and college were in his near future. He had to call Mozzie and June. And Ariel and Lucas. This would be a nice conversation piece for when they came up to visit next month.


End file.
